


Script for DAY 2: HOMELESS DEMOGRAPHIC - Google Docs

by orphan_account



Series: glitch.exe [1]
Category: Me - Fandom, i am the fandom, undertale???
Genre: Drugs, F/M, Gangs, Gen, Homeless Shelters, Homelessness, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Script Format, This Is STUPID, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, genderfluid folk, is accompanied by voiced recordings, luana's point of view, mentions a bunch of other characters, mentions of magic, this is actually my finals project, this is really long, transgender folk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 16:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This is mainly original with influences and inspiration from fandoms-- I think if you look at it hard enough, you should be able to find the influences, though.





	Script for DAY 2: HOMELESS DEMOGRAPHIC - Google Docs

**Author's Note:**

> This is mainly original with influences and inspiration from fandoms-- I think if you look at it hard enough, you should be able to find the influences, though.

DAY 1 OF HOMELESSNESS: A DEMOGRAPHIC  
WRITTEN BY: HILLARY MAC, SMITH

ENTER INTRO WITH ‘HOMELESS DEMOGRAPHIC’  
MORNING; roughly 7:37 AM (LUANA’s time to wake up and go to school)

LUANA: My name is Luana Kahale, and my father is Lieutenant Commander Ahe Kahale, a kindly, tall and quiet man, and my mother, Akela Kahale, is an assertive woman with an orderly tone and a heart that could hold all of our home, Hawaii. I used to live in a small apartment with them, in Clear Lakes-- the room was number ‘448-A’. My father had long, wild and curly hair he kept in a low ponytail while my mother’s short curly locks were often kept in a smaller ponytail at the nape of her neck, puffing out in a fan.

LUANA: We moved to Texas for my father’s military assignment. I used to go to highschool, and I went to all of my classes with A’s and B’s. I am intelligent, I know my facts and my teachers used to praise me for my opinions and ideas. However, other students teased me for being too skinny, too smart, and bullied me and made me into a-- some kind of-- monster. I didn’t want that. I don’t need that. It was just a reason to stop going to school, the whole harassment getting even worse when I got into puberty. Boys were looking at me the wrong way, so I hid myself and only made everything worse. I looked.. Fat. Girls knew that-- and they made fun of that too.

LUANA: I stand at a height of 5’6”, my weight is around a hundred pounds and a little less, and I’ve been diagnosed with anorexia. This stresses my mother out a lot. I met my boyfriend at an eating disorder support group and ran away with him after my mother found out about us, reacting explosively.

LUANA: I’m not sure what got into her, but I still love my parents and I hope they’re okay. They often worry a bunch about me. But I need some time away from them, and I think they need some time away from me, too. We’re constantly near each other, and the house is so small sometimes.

LUANA: Right now, I’m sitting down on my boyfriend’s jacket. He doesn’t want to reveal his name, so I’m going to respect that. The bridge we’re living under is close to a red gas station. Lots of cars go there, since it’s the only gas station ‘round for a while. I’ve already managed to score a job there, so with a lot of budgeting and the few skills I’ve managed to cobble together from school, I can rake in a bit of money for food. The store owner knows I’m homeless-- it’s a bit obvious by the state of my stained hoodie. I’m trying not to think of brushing my teeth or taking showers, but both of us know that the scent is getting to both of us. There’s no way we’re gonna be kissing mouth-to-mouth at this point. I feel like a piece of junk and I look like one. There is zero need to make the feeling worse.

LUANA: I always had small thoughts about running away, in case of emergency, in case things go wrong, so I packed myself a backpack of supplies like water bottles and food bars and stuff. I would constantly worry about being with my boyfriend. It made me stressed out about how my mom would react to our relationship. I lost my cool, and now we’re stuck here, listening to the sound of cars speed by and the bridge creaking, thumps constant and the occasional blare of pop music through a rolled down window our new wake-up alarm. The sun still shines in my eyes and the clouds still roll by, the sky is blue and water is wet. Life goes on. I will share aloha, love, compassion and happiness, with my boyfriend, my partner, and I will make sure we both survive. I will contribute, and I refuse to be useless. I am not a victim, nor a damsel.

LUANA: (sigh) Depressing thoughts aside, let’s get back on topic. We don’t want to waste water bottles, so we’re saving the few bottles I packed and we’re trying to ration the food. I’m not sure if it’s going so well? I only brought along snacks and dried foods. I wish I brought more. I’m hoping the bugs don’t get to them, as long as I keep them in the bag. It reeks like the dumpster behind the school. It even has the same gross brown stuff crawling out from the cylindrical concrete structures that hold up the bridge. The supports are cracked. It’s hard to sleep sometimes because of all the noise from the cars and the strong smell.

LUANA: My boyfriend is working over at the gas station too, so if we manage to save up enough, hopefully we’ll be able to get more food. Maybe we’ll move to a public bathroom, too. At least we can pee somewhere where the smell will be disposed of. There’s been no sight of any officers-- police officers around. I’ve found three ‘missing person’ papers just flying beneath the bridge already. Thank the gods. We don’t look too bad, but the scent is almost noticeable upon a five foot radius and both of us hate it. I accidentally stained my jacket a bit after I fell in a stupid river because I was so weak.

LUANA: The cold nips at my feet as I speak. Even with the worn-out sneakers I have, my socks aren’t thick enough. I hope I don’t get an fungal infection soon. Thankfully, it isn’t very humid in Texas-- but it’s still kind of chilly in the mornings. It’s better than frying myself alive, anyways.

LUANA: I think it might rain soon, though. There’s the scent of rain in the air, the clouds and the scent of wet concrete. I like the rain. It’s like a free shower from nature. Even if it messes up my hair, my partner says that he doesn’t mind whatever state my hair is in because he’s usually looking at my face and focusing on every word I say. He’s such a sap sometimes.

LUANA: It always smells like car gases and pollution down here, too. The water that goes under the bridge is really murky and brown, and always has small things floating around in it, sometimes on the surface or flying around. People-- little kids walk on the bridge on their way to school, and a few of them have seen us just hanging around down here. It makes me feel embarrassed.

LUANA: There’s a draft down here that brings to my lungs the world’s smoke and I cannot for the life of me stop coughing. I’m always wearing my red jacket, but it’s still cold. My partner on the other hand, has zero issues with this. I don’t know if you can hear the jealousy in my voice, but it’s there. I like to snuggle up to him in order to try and steal his body heat, but all he does is just smile at me and hug me. The scent of ‘not taking a shower for a day’ isn’t very strong at the moment, but I’m sure it’ll grow.

LUANA: There are shelters just a little farther into town. Just along the sidewalk, near the large red stop sign that’s fallen over. If my boyfriend and I could only go a little bit farther, we might be able to make it. But the thought of rejection is crippling and I’m a coward.

LUANA: I hate being so afraid. I’m not scared of just the thought of rejection, I’m terrified of being found, by the police or some do-gooder Samartinean or something. Someone with good intentions.

LUANA: I don’t know-- I don’t know how long we’ll be out here. It was originally all his idea to run away, so we hadn’t planned much of it. Well-- I didn’t really get to know much about this all, he just told me to trust him and he would take care of all of it. If I had only known we’d be under a stinking bridge then I would have convinced him to take us to a local shelter before we set up camp, but when my mother snapped, I did too-- and I was just so angry and--!

LUANA: I need to stop thinking about everything that happened and concentrate on stay alive. My boyfriend should be back from his shift anytime soon.

END TIME:

 

‘HOMELESS DEMOGRAPHIC’ INTRO  
AFTERNOON (7 PM, LUANA would be having dinner around this point)

LUANA: It’s a bit more cloudy now, the sky covered by shades of grey. I felt a few drops of cold rain a bit earlier, but it’s been on and off. My boyfriend has gone to his other job-- he’s off some ways down the block, working at some donut shop. He helps man the register while other workers make pastries and the like. This job gets a lot more than the other one, but he still insists on juggling more jobs. I hope we manage to save enough to get an apartment or something. But that doesn’t seem to be coming until years in the future, depending on if I even get back home or not.

LUANA: The kids coming back from elementary school have walked back to their homes by now. I hope they’re playing video games and eating good or something, not thinking about running off like I am. I regret coming out a bit, but if I’m with him, it should be okay. Besides, I’ll just find a way to live on my own if we break up. I don’t think that’ll ever happen and I hope it never does-- but I can’t exactly imagine getting… having a marriage like this, y’know? It’d be lovely, and I’ve daydreamed so much about my dress and how it would go-- but then I think about all the money that would have to go into it. Even if I made up with my mom, it wouldn’t be the same. We still wouldn’t have enough.

LUANA: I can still smell the bridge’s waste. I swear, if that trickling brown rust drips onto me while it rains, I’ll screech like a bird and fly away. I’ll start a new life with my boyfriend as a bird. We’ll move into a nest. Speaking of which; I’ve been hinting for us to move, but he’s been kind of off lately. He’s very stressed. I’m worried he’ll do something stupid. He tends to make bad decisions when I’m not around to slap some sense into him, y’know?

LUANA: I heard birds a bit earlier. I wonder if they’re making a nest. There was also a police car that raced by on the bridge. For a second, I thought that they were looking for me, and I just packed up all of my stuff and hid as far as I could, curling myself into a tight ball and shoving my legs up into my chest. I hugged my bag too, so it hurt a bit. I have a bruise on my head from hitting it when I heard the sirens. They were so loud that I heard the car before it came into view.

LUANA: We always avoid the edge of the bridge, where the sunlight kisses grey concrete speckled with brown. It’s where the people definitely see you. What if someone drives by and reports us? There’s no way I’m going to ruin our chances of staying together just because an article of clothing was sticking out. Even if it could be some shelter dudes coming to look if we need help or something, I think it’s best not to risk it.

LUANA: … My family and I would be having dinner by now. My dad would be out of uniform, his wild hair just everywhere, taking up two seats. My mother would be scolding him and whacking his hair with the spoon playfully, before getting down to business and dishing out the food. I can’t stop thinking about how much I would love it if I could eat some of mom’s beef and zucchini. It smells so nice, my head keeps on messing with me.

LUANA: Today marks my second day of ‘not showering’. I feel even grosser than usual. I don’t want to know what might happen if I look at my reflection, either. Everytime I slouch, it just-- I feel nauseous. I have rolls. Lumps. Bad ones. Those shouldn’t be there-- they are what make me feel so ugly. I don’t want them.

LUANA: We need to gather more money. A few hours and we might have enough for some bananas or something. The gas station I work at is basically a grocery store too. It’s amazing. Very convenient. I think it’s actually called a convenience store but I don’t know for sure. All I know is that there’s so much food there. It’s great. It’s also kinda cheap because the store owner doesn’t know how to price things. I feel guilty for not letting them know that Walmart has that for twice the price and the same amount, but it’ll come in handy later on at least.

LUANA: My jacket smells like feminine musk. That’s not a good thing and I can’t stop thinking about how greasy my face is. When I need to use the restroom, I have to leave the bridge, because I’m not leaving a puddle in sight of where I can be reminded of my bladder. It’s chipping away at me. However, my boyfriend has no issues with any of this… at all. I feel stupid for even feeling this way.

LUANA: My boyfriend won’t be back for a while, so I’ve got time to talk. He dislikes it whenever I narrate my life for some reason. Makes him chuckle and then laugh. He doesn’t want to be recorded.

LUANA: To pass the time, I sing to myself and daydream-- sometimes I go out and hunt for more jobs, occasionally working to scavenge for materials and supplies. We found a matchbox under the bridge, left by some other homeless kiddo I guess, with a few sticks left inside. I have never used matches before, so my partner usually lights the fire.

LUANA: I know how to cook on and by a fire though. Once, I managed to kill a bird and a squirrel. With the switchblade I brought along, I managed to skin them and cook them. To my pleasure, the boy seemed a little bit grossed out and a little bit amazed. The animals weren’t very filling, but they were warm food and it was something to eat. I had no qualms with eating my bird, but my boyfriend was very reluctant. It was hilarious. I’ve saved the look on his face to my memories forever.

LUANA: … I’m still not really very happy with just sitting around, though.

END TIME:

 

NIGHT TIME  
;HOMELESS DEMOGRAPHIC’

LUANA: I think there’s something wrong with me. I’ve been coughing a lot lately and my throat hurts a bunch. No matter how much water I drink, it doesn’t stop. We don’t have medicine to stop the coughing, but I managed to get a handful of cough drops as a treat from my boss. Those are being saved.

LUANA: While my partner is gone, I’ve been calling myself the lookout. I’ve been watching over our stuff and the bridge. So far, there’s been no sight of any police. No flashlights. No yelling. Just the chirps of insects in the grass and the buzz of old, yellow street lamps. The shadow they cast towers over the bridge. If I listen closely, I think I can hear someone yelling in the silence. Sounds like arguing.

LUANA: It’s so dark out here I can barely see anything. My hand is moving but I can only see a faint outline and the woosh of wind in my face. Every time I close my eyes, it all feels so dark. I get scared, and bad thoughts start to crawl at my feet. They make it feel like the dark is slowly digesting me, a great beast of sadness and negativity.

LUANA: The boyfriend is sleeping. He sleeps deeply, so if I talk normally it’ll be okay. I’m still worried about him, though. He has problems too. Even while resting his face is scrunched up a bit, with a furrow in his brow.

LUANA: I’m hungry, but it’ll be okay if I don’t eat, right? Eating at night is bad anyways. It’s very unhealthy and can lead to bad habits. In fact, the calories you get from eating build up in your stomach and stuff. ‘Cause you’re not working them off.

LUANA: … But I know that not eating is bad either way, because humans constantly need energy for their activities and they run out very fast. I used to run track for my school, but I wouldn’t get very far because I would be so tired after a lap. It was because I wouldn’t let myself eat enough. I would bring energy bars to eat, push myself to my limit so that I could try and break them. If I exercise enough, I can be skinnier. I’ll be prettier. They won’t make fun of me if I be better. I won’t need to purge myself anymore, I won’t need to sit down for hours and look at myself and go ‘ew.’

LUANA: … This night is getting to me. I don’t know if I’m going to cry or not, but I never do when I’m sad. I think it’s cause my subconscious doesn’t want my boyfriend to notice. Whenever I’m upset, he always gives his everything to make me feel better. But the truth is-- we never had anything. Nothing was ours. All of it was passed down, given to us, bought for us, by our parents and families and heritage.

LUANA: Nothing was never really ours, was it?

LUANA: But our love can be ours. I hope it can be ours. I hope that he doesn’t leave me. I hope he doesn’t abandon me like in those dramas I see on TV, like the hopeless, romantic boy he acts like sometimes. He’s become my everything, the eye of the storm, someone to hold onto. He’s what’s keeping me afloat sometimes, and when I feel like I’m being swallowed whole, he pulls me out of the muck and everything gets better.

LUANA: I’d be willing to do anything for him, really. Even this-- even run off to live under a bridge. I’m always skeptical of everything he says and does and promises to me, but if he ever wants anything, I’m willing to give. Because I know he’s willing to give to me. It’s a mutual relationship. My mom doesn’t think it’s very healthy to be so loyal, though.

LUANA: Well, she’s not here to lecture me anyways.

LUANA: Whenever we sat to eat dinner at the dinner table with my dad, she’d always joke about relationships. She’d tell me not to get a boyfriend until I’m a specific age, lest I get stuck with someone like dad. She’d laugh-- but the talks and jokes and warnings in her voice would become more and more frequent with every passing day she got a hint that I was in a relationship.

LUANA: And so, one day she saw our text messages. And that’s why I’m here, now.

LUANA: ...I’m tired. There’s no cars speeding along the bridge to make the thumping noises, so I can rest. It’s oddly peaceful… in a scary way. Like the time before your death.

LUANA: I’m scared. Tired. Exhausted.

LUANA: … Goodnight.


End file.
